


Save Me

by Reader_Unknown



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Drug Abuse, Dust!Swapfell (?), F/M, Gen, Genocide, Healing, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22172809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reader_Unknown/pseuds/Reader_Unknown
Relationships: Mutt/Chara, Papyrus/Chara
Kudos: 5





	Save Me

It was a bad day. Why? For starters, everyone was still dead. And he didn't do a damn thing about it. Couldn't do a damn thing about it. He was in his room, covered in dust, a week worth's of grime and he reeked of alcohol. Pills of various colors littered the floor as well as cigarettes and used dog treats. If you look really hard you might find a needle or two buried underneath the heap of clothes, along with other various drug paraphernalia. It basically lived up to the name a glorified shithole as his brother was so fond of calling it. Outside was no better. It didn't stink the way his room did. But it was terrifyingly silent. Too silent. It was the kind of silence that was so strong that it would make a person want to cover their ears for the fear of going deaf.

Snowdin. Cold and unforgiving, Snowdin, now just empty and lifeless. Not that it didn't felt like that before. But he could always feel, no matter how faint, a soul scurrying about. Now he couldn't feel a damn thing. But what could he expect? He knows they're all dead. Every single one of them, dead. No one was spared. How was he so sure? Why he had a hand in killing them of course. He figured, why wait for the kid to go on a killing spree again and get all that EXP for themselves when he can gain all of that first then stop the brat before they can even set foot outside of the ruins. It wasn't a good plan. It was a plan that a desperate man could come up with. It was a plan that only a man who's had enough would take. It was a horrible plan. Mutt never had a good plan. If he did, then things wouldn't get this bad. 

Sighing lamely at the broken bottle on his hand, back against the wall and legs carelessly splayed about, he stared at his warped reflection. He looked, well, he looked. But he couldn't find the man he used to be. Granted, he never had any redeeming qualities to begin with, but there was that tiny feeling of hope within him that he could still turn himself around. That he could still change. That he wasn't that far gone. But now, he might've burned that only bridge he had. He had no hopes of ever changing. 

Chucking the remnants of the bottle with the rest of the things in his room, he allowed himself to slide sideways onto the dusty floor and closed his sockets. Breathing in the dust of fallen monsters and mold. Who was he kidding? Thinking of change. Hah. What a fantasy. He's probably taken that wrong pill again. What was that called? Nah. It doesn't matter. He just takes them and forget or maybe he'd feel numb enough while it replays in his goddamn mind. Like a fucking loop. 

He'd almost managed to fall into a drug-induced sleep when 'it' happened again. The familiar tapping of heavy boots on wood and the feel of something warm and familial blooming in his chest. He rubbed his sternum, willing the feeling to go away. This was one of the downside of drugs. You can't always expect it to always work in your favor. He'd be willing to bet that when he opened his eyes, he'd see 'him' again. Slowly lifting a boney lid, he peeked around the room. And there he was. Sitting on top of his unkept bed. Legs on top of the other. In all his undead glory. And with his signature scowl plastered on his face. Ladies and gentlemen, we have Sans the skeleton.

Mutt let his socket slip close once more. A tired huff whistling past his teeth. Mutt swears he could feel the hallucination's scowl deepen as he tried to ignore it's presence. This wasn't the first time that something like this has happened. At first, it was just glimpses of his brother on his peripheral at random places, then he was hearing things, then came the post its on the wall, the door to his damn room and even at the fridge. If he allowed himself to believe then he would be thoroughly convinced that it was his brother trying to tell him to "GET THE FUCK UP" and "CLEAN THE FUCKING HOUSE" or "TAKE A FUCKING BATH YOU SMELLY DOGSHIT". He probably wrote that to himself then forgot about it. He was still grieving after all. Must be his mind's fucked up way of trying to keep what's left of him together. 

Sans was the only family he had and he was the only thing that mattered in the underground. He was what kept Mutt going. Not the thought of seeing the light of day or even the stars as his younger self hoped to see would compare of just wanting his brother to be safe and survive their whole fucked up way of living. Sans was his world. His reason of living. And he had lost him. It was all his fault. 

He took a shuddering breath as he clutched at his skull. Body quivering as he fought off the urge to break down. He's had a lot of those lately. He needs to stop. He needs to— he needs... He went stiff as he felt something pat his skull gently. Mutt didn't say anything. He didn't move. He knew that wasn't real but it's been so long since he'd had any contact. He couldn't fight of the emotions anymore. Everything that he'd tucked back at the back of his mind came tumbling out and within moments he had been reduced to a blubbering mess. Crying and crying for who knows how long. Apologizing over and over til his voice was hoarse. Yet the hand never stopped petting him. The presence never left. 

He wished he could stay like this forever. To just let himself go and let his mind come up with whatever to comfort him. But soon enough, exhaustion slowly took over. He finds himself on the losing end of a battle to stay conscious. In an effort to hold on to that fantasy, he opened his sockets shakily and tries to reach out to the now blurry figure of his brother. He couldn't find purchase. And kept missing somehow as he tried to grab anything at all from this illusion. Finally, he heard a quiet sigh above him and felt it, him, hold his hand. Gripping it securely. He returned the gesture. Squeezing the other's gloved hand. Trying to reassure himself that— that whole thing from before was just a nightmare and he was just having a really long bad dream. Then soon enough, he'll wake up and find his brother alive and well. He exhaled a watery laugh at that hopeful thought. 

He could dream. He could. Just this once let him be happy. Please... 

He gave one last weak and desperate squeeze to the hand before he lost consciousness. 

It was gone again the next day. And the next. And the next. And the next one after that. He'd lost count. Sometimes he couldn't tell if it was morning or afternoon. The magic in the underground somehow weakening. The artificial lights didn't have that much glow anymore like it used to. It was getting darker and darker. The air stuffier. The water, still. It was becoming what it really was. A prison. And he was all alone. 

He'd try to take his mind off of that. Humming a tune to himself. Hell even cooking something for a change. Nothing fancy of course. He doesn't give that much of a fuck to prepare something so tedious for only one person. Maybe he'd try origami again. 

Sometimes he wonders why he hasn't killed himself yet. There was nothing left. The kid was dead. Their soul preserved in the lab along with the other six. He really wonders why he hasn't crushed their soul yet too. There was no point in keeping that thing. No monsters left to free. No one left to enjoy the freedom or further torture, if the humans up top was as foul as the last one that fell. 

He probably needed to decide. Though it didn't have to be now. He had all the time in the underground. Unless the kid decided to reset. Heh. He'd given up waiting for that reset a while back. Maybe the kid gave up? Or maybe they were just screwing with him. Probably waiting for him to get back on his feet again and do something worthwhile only for everything to be undone and he'd be back where he started. 

Well, at least he'll have his brother back. He smiled at that thought, rummaging through his old documents and blueprints. He wasn't really looking for something in particular. It was more of digging through old stuffs for the sake of having something to do. That, and post its started appearing again. It was telling him to clean up. It didn't exactly tell him where. The entire house wasn't necessarily a dump but it needed maintenance nonetheless. Except for San's room. He hasn't been there for a long time. 

After about half an hour of just aimlessly rummaging through random wires and metals, he settled for organizing. He had just about filed the last bits away when something caught his eye. He eyed the dark spots on the floor before crouching down and getting a closer look. Dipping a finger into the dark liquid, he lifted it up to his face. Ink? 

With narrowed sockets, he casually walked away from the ink spot on the floor before suddenly summoning multiple bone attacks behind him. The intruder yelped and backed away. Lifting his skeletal hands up in a sign of surrender. 

"Whoa now! Must fell-verses always be this violent?" he chuckled nervously, his eyelights changing every time he blinked. 

Expresionless. Mutt tilted his head at the stranger before deciding to just end it fast. Something about this skeleton disturbed him. With every intent to kill. He rained bones upon bones on the intruder. The attacks missing their intended target and pierced through the walls and metal flooring as the intruder nimbly dodged and blocked his onslaught of bones. 

"Look, I'd love to play but I'm here on a mission!" the other skeleton declared, slashing his gigantic brush upwards and creating another barrier, his eyelights drifting off elsewhere.

Mutt narrowed his sockets before chancing a glance on that same direction. But by the time he noticed the dark inky shadows that pooled below his feet. It had already been too late. He feel into an endless darkness. The last thing he sees is the intruder's grinning face. 

It went on for awhile before he was dropped on his front on an cold icy surface. He wished then and there that he'd lost consciousness. He was pissed. But it didn't last long, he got up on his feet and looked around, leaving a perfect copy of his silhouette. It was... just outside of Snowdin. But, something didn't feel right. Did the artificial lights get stronger or is he getting a headache from the fall? It's probably a concussion.

He rubbed the top of his skull before bringing his hood up. He was just about to teleport back to his house in Snowdin when he noticed his old sentry post near the ruins. Eyes wide he walked closer. 

Warm memories as well as unpleasant ones started to resurface on the front of his mind as he neared the old sentry post. He couldn't recall how many times he sat inside that old thing smoking away everything that ever irked and bothered him. His brother didn't approve of his other habits but allowed him to have his smokes. He understood that it helped ease Mutt's nerves. He was thankful for that small favor. It meant a lot. Considering he didn't have to bother hiding it and sneaking off every chance he got to just have a damn smoke. 

A small smile made it past his fangs as a more pleasant if not tolerable memories took over. He's spent a lot of time cooped up in his room. Only emerging to gather more... supplies to tide him over for a few more weeks. Maybe less. He didn't give it much thought. He was in and out of that place in a blink. Taking armfuls of... things he thinks he'll need as well as other various monster food. There are times, although quite rare, that he'd actually take his time to walk back to his home in Snowdin. Why he bothered to go home when he can just hole himself up somewhere convenient was a thing Mutt didn't want to think about. Not yet at least. 

His thoughts halted as he finally noticed something odd inside the old post. It was actually a 'someone'. Not a something. An actual living person. Or is it? Well how about that. He's loosing more and more of his mind. He idly wonders who he'd see this time. His brother? Muffet? Would he dare hope? He quickened his steps only to freeze mid-stride, "Hey. You there." his boot going back down. Awkward and slow. The thing actually spoke. "Come over here and show yourself." He held his breath. This didn't feel like one of his hallucinations. Should he— nah fuck it. He teleported directly in front of the station. What could a hallucination do to him that he hadn't already done to himself? 

Imagine his surprise when he saw what it was. 

His body went rigid, eye sockets dark and a sneer twisted his fangs. It was a human. A bigger human. Must be an adult then. But there was something familiar about them. Was it the eyes? The rosy cheeks? No. It can't be. It can't be them. They were far too old and didn't emit the same malicious intent. He doesn't know much about humans but he knew enough that they didn't grow that fast. And he didn't even get the sickening feeling in his soul when he was this close already.

So, not them. But, a human nonetheless. And this human was in monster territory. Now he couldn't have that could he? Once upon a time, he might've captured it and brought it to his brother. But his brother wasn't here anymore. Now what was a lone skeleton monster to do?

"Yer not supposed ta be here." he smiled threateningly, taking a step forward. His face darker, more shadowed.


End file.
